Tiziana's Story: A Crimson Tale 1716
by laurencia98
Summary: Tiziana's father commits a mortal crime against the King of the Vampires, now his daughter must pay the price. Tanz der Vampire Dance of the Vampires inspired


Tiziana's Story  
  
Bavaria, a black forest, 1716  
  
He watched in amazement as the once beautiful creature of the night dissolved to festering ashes at his feet. Smoke and fire seemed to blaze from her crystal orbs until they too were swallowed by the flames. Only moments ago, she had been immortal and full of power. Now, she was dust. Olgar Kretzmer had been hunting as usual in the woods that night; however, he soon discovered he was the hunted as well as the hunter.  
Her beauty had amazed him when she flew from the trees, and it was only on instinct that he turned the sharp stake against her. If he had looked upon her long, he would not have been able to kill her. "A vampire," he said to himself, kneeling beside the smoldering heap. "Where there is one, there must be another," he continued, tying together two sticks for a makeshift cross.  
He had heard the stories since childhood about the fanged demons, but he had never witnessed one until this night. His eyes caught a glimmer of red light, and he beheld a ruby pendant lying in the remains. It would bring a nice price when the jewel peddlers returned to the village. He tore a bit of cloth from his shirt, and retrieved the ruby from the dying embers of the vampiress' body. "Beautiful," he murmured as its deep fiery red show brightly.  
Olgar stuffed the jewel in his pocket and backed away from the ashes. His eyes looked once more up to the trees from which she had flown. There was a strange rustling in the leaves, then he appeared. Standing in the branches there was the figure of a man, but something told Olgar it was much more than a mere mortal. The figure stared dead at him with the most terrifying eyes Olgar had ever seen. He clutched the makeshift cross to his chest, and held the stake at point  
The man only raised one long, thin finger towards Olgar, summoning a child through his soul unlike anything he had ever known. That face! Those eyes! He would remember the anger and wrath in the figure's expression for as long as he lived. That face which bore the most blistering hate fathomable, and those eyes that cut through him like a knife seemed to make Hell look inviting.  
Suddenly, the specter began to laugh menacingly, and lightening flashed thrice in answer to that terrible laughter. Then, whatever it was, man or demon, disappeared into the night with a boom of thunder and a spin of his cape.  
Now Olgar Kretzmer, being a hunter and a blacksmith, had experienced all kinds of gore and terror in his time. He was not a man to be frightened, but there was something about this sight that made his bones clatter with fear. Olgar was certain that he had just come face to face with the King of the Vampires. The old ones of the village talked of him often, and their seemingly fantastic descriptions had been quite accurate. He knew that the only thing standing between him and the vengeance of the King of Night was the tiny cross he held to his breast.  
"I must get home! Evil is the forest tonight! Tiziana will not be happy that I have failed to bring home any meat, but she would be more unhappy if I end up as someone's supper!," said Olgar to himself, gathering his hunting weapons. He held the cross in front of him, and fled has fast as his feet would carry him back to his safe cottage in the village. Tiziana would be there alone, and he had to make sure she was safe. Had he not been a man who was light on ale, he would have given these happenings up to drunkenness. Tiziana would prepare a brew for him tonight though. His daughter always had a goblet of warm ale waiting for him after a hunt, and tonight he needed it to cleanse his thoughts of these things which he had seen. *  
Tiziana nearly dropped the pot of stew she was preparing when her father came bursting through the door and barring it behind him. "Papa, what is the matter? You act as if Satan has chased you from the woods!," she exclaimed.  
"Lower your voice, Tizi! There is something wicked afoot tonight. You would not believe me if I told you of the things I have seen tonight!," he said in a troubled voice.  
"Papa, I thought you had your ale after the hunt, not before. Now, we have no meat for the storehouse," replied Tiziana.  
"Listen, girl, I have defied death in the woods tonight! There was a kill made in the forest tonight, but it was neither man nor beast! She looked like an angel from a distance, but I knew she was a devil as she turned to ashes before me at the point of a stake!," said Olgar, shaking his daughter.  
"I thought you always called the old ones in the village foolish when they talked of things such as vampires," replied Tiziana.  
"Yea, I thought they were fools until tonight! God be my witness, Tizi, I saw something unexplainable in those woods tonight! We must take measures to protect ourselves from danger! Gather up all the crosses in the house, and place them over the windows and doorways! I have plenty of garlic bulbs in the garden that we can surround ourselves with!," continued Olgar maniacally.  
Tiziana had never known her father to behave like a madman, so his words did trouble her. "If vampires are indeed hunting, we will no doubt be hearing of murders in the village again."  
"We must see that we are not the victims, Tizi! The King of the Vampires was in the forest tonight! I saw him with my own eyes! Never have I seen such a sight! His eyes torn through me like knives! I must protect you from him!," cried Olgar, dragging his daughter to her room. He took the cross icon from her bedside table and hung it in the window. "We only have to be afraid at night! But be weary, Tizi! Keep your window closed at night! The heat in this room cannot be much when compared with the fires of Hell!"  
Tiziana looked with bewildered eyes at her father. "Do you have a sign that all this is true, Papa, and not merely your mind toying with you?"  
He reached in his pocked, and revealed the ruby he had taken from the vampiress. "Where would your Papa find this, Tizi? Such a jewel is priceless! It would mean a whole new life for us if I can sell it!"  
"It belonged to the vampiress?," asked Tiziana, touching the gem.  
"Ay. Keep it hidden in your mattress, my girl! If anything should happen to me, I want you to be provided for," said Olgar.  
Tiziana reached up and embraced her father. His black beard tickled her cheek, and she softly, "Nothing is going to happen, Papa. This will pass, and everything will be as it was before."  
"I pray to God above you are right, Tizi! I pray you are right!," said Olgar, holding his daughter tighter. "For our sake!"  
  
*  
"Alekzandra destroyed!," thought Count Henrich von Krolock over and over again. It seemed almost impossible to imagine. He had turned her only days ago, and had been taking her on her first hunt when the wretched mortal had killed her. "I should have kept her more under my wing! She was much too young to realize the power she could have had over a mere man!"  
He growled in anger as he looked up at the moon. Nothing angered him more than when mortals killed one of his own, especially one so young as Alekzandra. The Count remembered his vow to protect her, and groaned with agony. "I failed you, fair Alekzandra, but know this, if you be in Heaven or Hell, I will avenge you! I will bring such misery to the hunter's heart until he will beg to be killed! He takes your ruby that I gave you and plans to sell it to a gypsy peddler! I know his mind! I also know that he possesses a daughter! A daughter that he loves! As he has taken you from me, I will take something from him! I will kill the girl, and he shall know no more peace, for her blood is on his hands! Her blood will be spilt!," vowed the Count, baring his enormous fangs as he spoke. *  
Tiziana touched the smooth surface of the ruby pendant, and placed it around her neck as she looked in the mirror. "Papa will sell this soon for sure," she said a little bitterly, for she wanted to own it. She wondered if there was indeed truth in her father's account of his hunting mishap when she observed the ruby. It was no simple gem, but a radiant, blazing red jewel. "Vampires," she scoffed as she put down the cross her father had left by her bed. She would hold it as she slept, but just to keep her father calm.  
Tiziana climbed into her small bed, still wearing the ruby pendant. It was a hot, smoldery night, and she found it impossible to sleep in the suffocating room. After all, there was a cross over the window, so it would be safe to open it, and allow some air into the house. "I am more apt to die from lack of breath rather than a vampire's teeth," she said, rising from her bed, and opening the window. A cool wind blew in upon her face, and she shuddered slightly. The cross swayed slightly in the wind, but it held fast above the window. Sleep soon found Tiziana as she held the cool surface of the ruby close to her heart. *  
Two gnarled and vein-covered hands slithered through the window of Tiziana's room, and pulled the cross from its place. A stocky, ill-formed body formed in the shadows of her room, and approached the bed. He quickly gathered the garlic bulbs that surrounded her bed, then proceeded to the girl. She looked to be the picture of innocence as she lay there, snug in her bed, clutching the cross. He would have to be careful not to wake her. If he did, the Master would be angry, and the thought of living the wolf- infested woods did not appeal to Frederick. His body was not much, but he had no desire for it to become a feast for the wolves.  
He gently eased the cross from her grip, and put it in the bag with the other objects that could detour his Master's plans. Frederick looked at the young girl as she gently stirred. He feared that she sensed his presence, but he came closer to stroke her brow. "Too beautiful," he said silently. Frederick had grown to hate things of beauty when he looked at his own hideousness, but he felt pity for her. "'Tis no use. She was lost to him when her father tempted his wraith," Frederick continued, turning his face from the girl. He left through the window just as he had come, and approached his master. "'Tis done, Excellency," he said, raising up the bag full of Olgar's crosses.  
"Good, Frederick. You have been loyal. Now, take those things away and destroy them!," commanded the Count.  
The Count made his way freely to Tiziana's window, and silently entered the room. His eyes slowly passed over the girl's sleeping form from within the shadows of her bed. Her warmth and breath gave testament to her life, and the Count hated her for it. "You live and I am forced to die many deaths. Tell me what is the justice in Heaven, or hell, for that matter? For surely some are tortured more than others. Your mistake was being born, my dear girl," he said to her sleeping form. The Count extended his gloved hand, and had every intention of strangling the life from her, but then he stopped. She was a fair girl, much more beautiful than he had imagined her to be. She was the Blacksmith's most prized possession. Would it not pain him more to know that the thing he detested most held dominion over his only daughter? "No, dear Blacksmith, I will not kill her, but she will be dead to you! She will call me her master for the rest of her days, and never will she part my company! She will be my slave!," he thought triumphantly.  
Tiziana began to awaken, but the Count swiftly put his hand over her eyes. "Sleep, girl," he commanded, and she slumped back upon her bed. The Count took her up in his arms, and departed with her through the window.  
At that moment, Olgar awoke from his fitful sleep with a start. He instinctively knew as a Father that something had happened to Tiziana. He shot from his bed has if it were on fire, and ran to his daughter's room.  
Olgar wailed in horror at the sight of the empty bed and open window. "Tiziana!," he cried into the open night sky. "Answer your father!"  
Instead of Tiziana's voice, there came the most wicked laughter down through the branches of the trees. "No!," he screamed. "Not my daughter, you scion of Satan!" Thunder crashed at his words, and Olgar new without a doubt who had taken his daughter. "For the love of God...," he wept against the window as the warm summer's night suddenly became cold and starless.  
  
*  
Tiziana slowly opened her eyes, heavy with sleep. The room seemed to be spinning around her, and it was only seconds before she discovered that her small wrists were bound to the foot of an enormous bed. Her first instinct was to release an terrified scream, and she obeyed it. "Papa! Help me!," she screamed, pulling against the fetters. The rust-covered shackles had bruised her delicate wrists, and her arms were stiff from being chained.  
The room she found herself in was completely dark, and it had all the welcoming qualities of a dungeon. Spider webs covered the bed, and the floor was dirty from what seemed to be years of dust. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the faint forms of portraits on the walls and scattered pieces of heavy furniture. Had her father's warnings not been foolery? This place had an evil presence, and it was obviously the lair of a madman or the devil; perhaps both.  
There was a sound at the door, and Tiziana fought against the chains to avoid the eyes of who or what ever had entered the room. The figure shined a lantern into the darkness. "You are awake?," said the trembling voice of Frederick, as he presented her with a tray of food. "Tell me that I can trust you not to run away when I untie you! The Master will kill us both if you disobey! I know the irons are hurting you, but I had to prevent you from escaping."  
Tiziana nodded, and Frederick slowly fumbled for the key to release her. The chains fell away and Tiziana eagerly took the food. "Be so kind as to tell me where I am," demanded Tiziana as she tore the bread with her teeth.  
"It is not my place to tell you. I know only this, you must obey him!," stammered Frederick.  
"My father told me about your master! I know who he is. You are keeping nothing from me!," shot back Tiziana.  
"Oh, dear girl, do not infuriate him! He will be angry enough because I have released you from the chains! Do not force me to put them back upon you!," replied Frederick.  
"Tell your Master that he needs more than shackles to keep me here! Tell him to try a musket or the Kaiser's army, but not these mere chains! He will not keep me here alive to eat stale bread and drink dirty water!," she stormed, dashing past the deformed Frederick with ease.  
Tiziana ran for the door, but her escape was thwarted by a strong arm that nearly knocked the breath from her with its power. "Stale bread and dirty water, Fraulein? I could have left you here to feast upon the rats or die! Trust me, I need neither a musket or any Kaiser's army to keep you here!," said the booming voice, as he forced her back into the room. "Frederick, I told you to leave this one in irons! One would think her a Queen, nay a Goddess, for all her talk of who she will obey!"  
"You bastard! Where am I?," she screamed at the Count.  
He grabbed her jaw at her words and said, "Hold thy tongue, wench! I have killed for a less offense!" With that, he threw her to the foot of the bed. "I see my Fraulein doesn't like her lovely bracelets!," he said looking at the bruises the shackles had left on her wrists. "Perhaps you have more particular tastes in finery?," the Count questioned mockingly, touching the ruby pendant upon her chest. He cruelly tore it from her neck, summoning a gasp from Tiziana. "You will not wear this, wench. It was given to the one your father destroyed! I'll not have you touching her things!"  
"I would not want the things of any demon-possessed banshee from Hell!," she screamed in reply.  
A roaring, terrible laugh escaped his lips at her words. "A fiery wench who dares to defy my every word! You are fortunate that I have a plan for you. Otherwise, I doubt you would live to see another sunrise! You are going to be my slave, Tiziana. My obedient, humble slave who bows when I enter the room, and serves me in any and every way I see fit! You will find that it is simply easier and much more pleasant if you comply."  
"Like Hell!," she screamed in reply.  
"You do not understand how like Hell I can be, Fraulein. I shall show you if you desire!," he threatened. She fought against him like a mad animal as he shackled her back to the bed, but his strength was that of one hundred men.  
"Demon! Madman! Let me go!," she screamed as her fists pounded against his chest. Tiziana had never seen anything so sure of its power! The Count's wickedly handsome and mystifying features glared at her in the light of the lantern. The paleness of his face seemed to despise even the lantern's slight beam.  
"Do not tempt me to be cruel, Tiziana. Under the circumstances of your abduction, I have been more than patient with you," said the Count, then he turned to Frederick. "Find the girl a gentler pair of irons, and do not release her unless I am with her. She cannot be trusted." As a final warning, the Count faced Tiziana and revealed his fangs. "Beware my wrath, mortal!"  
Tiziana turned her face from him, and gave a cry of sorrow. What did such a creature have planned for her? What sort of evil was festering within him, and what lengths would he go to have revenge upon her father? Tiziana felt the madness of absolute fear descending over her, but she refused to give in. 'I must not give into his threats! There must be a way to defeat him, and I will find that way! I vow it to myself and to my father!,' she thought, pushing the terror from her mind. *  
Night was about to fall, and Frederick had kept a vigil over Tiziana ever since the Count gave the command. "If you are good and obey him, the Master will not hurt you, Fraulein," he pleaded with her.  
"What reason have I to be good to him? I would rather die than be his slave here for the rest of my days!," hissed Tiziana.  
"Do not say that! Night is falling!," begged Frederick.  
Tiziana leaned fitfully against the fireplace, and observed her ball and shackles that the Count had ordered upon her. They at least allowed her to move, but she was still his prisoner! 'I will bide my time, but vengeance will be mine,' she thought. The sun was completely behind the horizon, and she felt the chill come over her. His Excellency was awake.  
The door suddenly creaked open, and a young man stepped forward. "My father says that he will see the girl now," he said.  
"Yes, young Master," said Frederick, leading Tiziana reluctantly out of the room.  
"The Count has children?," questioned Tiziana.  
"Yes, he was human once, my dear Fraulein, don't forget that. He still retains shades of his humanity," replied Frederick. "Alas, the Count's children fell to the same curse as their father."  
Tiziana was slowly pulled by Frederick into the Count's dining hall, where he sat in his throne. "Come forward, Frauline," he ordered. Tiziana walked slowly towards him with her usual defiant air. The Count, frustrated by her slow pace shouted, "Are you lame, girl? You are not obeying my commands!"  
"Perhaps my footing would be quicker if my shackles were removed," she shot back.  
The Count laughed heartily. "Do you think me a fool, Tiziana?"  
"No, Excellency, I think you the scum of this world, and unworthy of whatever devil who gives you your power!," she exclaimed, avoiding his extended hand.  
"Hark well, Meine Liebe, that I am a devil, and am capable of anything in Hell," he replied. What spirit she had! "I will soon break whatever fiery demon that stirs within your own soul! Come to me now!," he ordered.  
"No!," she said defiantly.  
The Count motioned for Frederick to leave the room. He looked at Tiziana's face, burning with hate and fury. "You will clean the tables in this room, and shine the portraits in the Great Hall, then you can proceed to the floors," the Count ordered, motioning towards a pail of water. "Get to work!," he commanded, flinging a rag to Tiziana.  
She clinched her teeth together, and replied, "You can't keep me here forever as your slave!"  
"Can I not?," he replied, grabbing her arms and forcing her to the ground. "You will be my footstool if I command it of you!"  
"Nay!," she cried, looking into his eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much fury and vengeance!  
He pulled her to the foot of his throne, and placed his hard boots against her backside amidst his roaring laughter. "You see, my Fraulein, I will not be guilty of allowing my word to be mocked at! I assure you that my fortitude is greater than yours, and I will break you if you force me too."  
"You are a monster, fit for nothing but Satan's own footstool!," she screamed, humiliated and shivering.  
The Count shoved her away with his feet, and pulled her up to stand upon her shivering legs. "Whatever I am, I am your master! Now, do as I have told you, or unpleasantries await you!"  
Tiziana backed away from him, and took up the pail of water. She could not stand his victorious eyes watching her! He thought he had conquered her! She would show him that she was the master of herself. Tiziana knew his eyes were upon her, so she would wait until his attention was distracted. She had seen the sharp candelabras burning in the dining hall when she first entered, and they looked to be the perfect instrument to impale this horror. How she longed to see him look at her for mercy, but she would not give it to him! All it would take was a thrust of one of those sharp candle holders, and he would be dust. 'So powerful, yet so fragile!,' she thought.  
She slowly made her way with the pail and rag to the candelabras as if she was about to clean them. The Count suddenly turned his eyes upon her, as if he was reading her thoughts. Tiziana had her hand upon the instrument that could destroy him, and she called upon her courage as he arose from his throne. His eyes told her that he had surmised her plans! She had to do something quickly, or he would stop her! As if she was controlled by only her raw courage, she threw the pail of cold water towards him to avert his pursuit of her.  
The Count threw his cape around him to block the flying water, and Tiziana took her chance to grab the sharp instrument of destruction. She used all her strength to aim the makeshift stake, but the Count's eyes were too quick for her. His hands, containing the power of a thousand mortal men, fiercely jerked the stake from her grip. "You have made a very serious mistake!," he said with all the fury of Hell behind his words, turning the instrument against her. Its sharp end pricked her breast, and her heart beat as if it would burst from her chest. He threw the candle holder aside, and lunged for Tiziana as she ran, dragging her chains behind her. She snatched a large knife from the battlements upon the wall, and held it against him as he faced her from across the table, glaring with those fierce eyes. He laughed wickedly at her poor attempt to destroy him. He came after her, and she turned the knife to her own throat.  
"If you come any closer, I will kill myself if I cannot destroy you! You will not hold dominion over me!," she threatened, holding the knife with a shaking hand to her throat.  
"Nay!," he exclaimed as his lightening fast hands pulled the knife away from her, leaving not a cut on those immortal fingers.  
"Please! Let me go!," screamed Tiziana as he pulled her across the table to face him.  
"Wench, you have passed the barrier of my anger!," he said wickedly, pulling her into a savage embrace as he kissed her.  
"No!," she screamed against his powerful mouth.  
"Yea, wench!," he said forcefully in response, tearing her bodice open to reveal her breasts. She fought fiercely against him as he lowered her down to the stone floor of the dining hall. Tiziana opened her mouth wide, and seized his shoulder madly with her teeth. The Count laughed like a madman at her response to him, and said hotly, "There will be time for that later, Meine Liebe!"  
The Count forced her skirts above her hips as her hands fought against his. He ripped away her pantaloons to expose her intimacy to him. Tiziana held her legs together tightly, but it only took a little force of his knee to open her thighs. She pulled his hair wildly as his mouth stroked her neck, but it was to no avail. Tiziana hated the feeling of his kiss, for it would have felt so wonderful under different circumstances. He stilled her struggling body with his arms, and forcefully entered her. Tiziana screamed at the first pain of her innocence passing away, and said fitfully, "I hate you! You will never know how much I truly hate you!"  
He responded to her venom-filled words by smothering her protests with his mouth. The Count held her tighter and his thrusts intensified at her passionate pleas. He could feel her blood boiling in her veins, and it aroused every dark desire within him. Tiziana had been careful not to allow any pleasure to be found in her angry response to him, but she could not suppress a gasp against his lips as he drove into her. Tiziana struggled against the torturous pleasure she was feeling, but the Count was much too experienced a lover not to notice her discreet, nearly silent moans. Part of him wanted to hurt her, yet the other part wanted to make her love him.  
After one last desirous caress, he pulled away from Tiziana, and she fell back against the floor, limp with humiliation. She covered her legs and breasts with the remaining scrape of her garment. "I hate you," she said breathlessly. "I cannot imagine hating even Satan more than you!"  
The Count stared at her silently with his piercing eyes and finally said, "Your hate will only last a short time, Liebe." He took his hands and cracked open the locks to her chains, and forced her to come back into his arms. Her skirts bore the proof of her virginity, and for a moment, guilt passed over the Count for the way he had relieved her of her innocence. "You forced me to this, Tiziana," he said, running his fingers over the blood-stained cloth.  
"Your lust to torture me forced you!," she cried.  
"Torture you? You obviously have a liking for torture, Meine Liebe," he replied, touching her hip seductively.  
"Please, you are hurting me," she sobbed.  
"You are mine, Tiziana. I feel it in your body. You hate me, but you have not entirely loathed being with me tonight. I will take you up to my chambers, where I shall show you how these hands that you hate can bring you to ecstasy and beyond," replied the Count, tracing her defiant face with one long finger.  
"No!," she screamed, struggling to free herself of him.  
"Tizi, how I love your spirit! I would rather have your hatred than the love of a thousand trembling, pleading young wenches offering to do my bidding!," he said, lifting her off of the floor.  
She fought against him with her fists and teeth all the way to his chamber, but her protests inflamed him even more. The Count dropped Tiziana from his arms and into his bed. He followed her into the crimson velvet softness, and his embrace forbid her to move. "Do not fight me this time, Tizi," he said, tearing away the remainder of her skirt. Tiziana sobbed madly as he came over her, using only a tiny portion of his strength to restrain her. He brushed her hair away from her face with his fingers, and pressed her to him forcefully. She groaned in feigned pain, and the Count said somewhat softly, "I will be gentle, only kiss me, Meine Liebe."  
Tiziana spat in his eye at his words, and he struck her across the mouth in anger. "You will learn that I am not a dog for you to spit at! I will take from you what I want, whether you give it willingly or not." He wrapped his arms around her and savored the feeling of her warm body responding to him; it mattered not at this moment whether her heart did or not. Her strength was waxing thin, and the Count moaned as he kissed the beads of salty perspiration upon her breasts. He wanted her for his own, but she would be worth the wait when her time finally came.  
She lay quietly for a long time, afraid to move as his arms held her. The Count's mouth journeyed up her side, and to her arm. She snatched away, but he turned her to face him. He kissed her long and hard, and although her fury was boiling, she did not fight him as hotly. "My saucy little wench has had enough," he said, arising from the bed. Tiziana covered herself with the fine bed clothes, and shivered as his eyes caressed her. "We have no secrets, Tiziana," said the Count at her attempt to hide from his eyes.  
"You are the lowest of the low," she gasped as tears flooded her cheeks.  
The Count gave an unpleasant smile and replied, "No, not the lowest of the low, but close."  
"You revel in your wickedness," she scoffed at him.  
"And what should I do? Weep for a soul damned in Hell fire? Nay, Tizi, I have nothing to do by glory in my villainy," replied the Count.  
"Hell is too good for such a creature!," spat Tiziana.  
"Indeed it is! Wilt thou accompany me there, Meine Liebe?," he asked coldly, extending his hand to her. Tiziana recoiled, but he grabbed her up from the bed. "But while we await our justice in Hell, my servant has prepared you a bath." The Count took her to a small wash room, and dropped her soundly in the tub.  
"No!," Tiziana protested as he opened a vial of perfume and poured it over her shoulders.  
"Yes," he replied quietly, absorbing the lusty sight of Tiziana covered only by the thin vail of water. "You must accustom yourself to me, for it will be rare that you will pass a night without my presence."  
"You intend to make me your whore!," she said between her teeth.  
"If you prefer that phrase, Meine Liebe," he replied with a sardonic grin. "But you will be mine." The Count came to the edge of the tub and held a beautiful cloth out for her to cover herself with. Tiziana slowly arose from the water, covering her breasts with her arms. He wrapped it tightly around her, and pulled her back to his bed chamber. The Count lay her on the bed more gently this time, and touched her scented shoulders with his mouth. He left her side briefly, however never taking his eyes away from her as he pulled a lovely garment from his wardrobe. It was a dark burgundy with a corset bodice and ivory sleeves. Tiziana could not lie to herself and say that it was not a beautiful dress, but she would not accept gifts from a creature who had raped her only moments ago. "Let it never been said that I allow my whore to be less than beautifully dressed," he said with a wicked smile as he presented the garment to her.  
Tiziana threw the dress to the floor and stomped it with her feet. "I would rather be naked and freeze to death in the dungeons than to accept anything from you!," she exclaimed.  
The Count jerked her from the bed and forced her to her knees amidst her cries and protests. "I would grant your request, for Hell knows that my eyes love to see you this way. However, the sight of you naked for too long might inflame my servant or some other creature dying for a thrill. The only one allowed to touch you is myself, therefore, I command you to get dressed!"  
He forced her to her feet and pulled a silken pair of bloomers over her slender legs. The Count touched her thighs as a moved upward and said against her bare breast, "When night falls again, Meine Liebe..." She cringed from her own thoughts as pleasure spread through her loins at his touch. Tiziana was not fighting anymore. Her strength failed her while the Count pulled the dress over her head, touching her body as it slowly covered her nakedness. "Since my lady loves fine things, I have a lovely piece of jewelry for your pleasure," said the Count, his voice dripping with feigned gallantry as he clasped a pair of gem-encrusted shackles around her wrists.  
"Damn your wickedness!," she exclaimed, pulling against the chains.  
The Count brushed her long auburn hair away from her shoulders, and revealed his terrible fangs. "You forget how easily I could turn you, Tiziana. I'd rather enjoy battling with you for an eternity. Your blood is hot and angry, just waiting for me to spread my poison within you!" He pushed her away from him roughly and continued, "Yet, I refrain! The time is not yet!" The Count began to laugh madly as if the Devil himself were taunting him. He turned to the enormous mirrors, tainted and cracked in their antiquity, and said to Tiziana, "Look wench! Look! So terrible that even glass will not reflect my image! Expect no mercy from me!  
"I never did, Excellency," she replied, glaring at him.  
"If my mother's womb had known the evil it possessed, it would have rejected my conception! 'Tis an abhorrant fate to be King of the Damned, but it is a crown I cannot pass down or abdicate! It will hang over my head beyond doomsday! When Satan my creator is chained in his own pit, I'll still be carrying this unholy scepter!," the Count raved, but then stopped abruptly. He was showing weakness in front of his victim, and that could be dangerous considering that she had tried to destroy him this very night. "As much as you hate me, Tiziana, your hate could never equal the abhorrence I feel for myself. Perhaps the only blessing of my existence is that I cannot see my face! However, a greater curse is the desire to keep this loathsome corpse alive. You will not be successful if you try to destroy me again, Meine Liebe. The only thing you could possibly accomplish is arousing my anger to the point where I kill you against my own will."  
His warning was interrupted by the entrance of the same young man she had seen earlier when she had been forced into an audience with the Count. "Gerhardt, what is the meaning of this intrusion?," demanded the Count, turning his fury towards the boy.  
"We are returning to the crypts. Will the girl now be joining us?," he asked.  
"No, she is not worthy yet," replied the Count as he jerked Tiziana to her feet. He gestured towards the young man and continued mockingly, "This is my son Gerhardt, second in line for the Kingdom of Hell! Look not to him for any mercy, either. We are all the same, are we not, my son?"  
"Ultimately, yes, Father," he replied stoically.  
Tiziana could not help to see that Gerhardt was a handsome figure. He was indeed his Father's heir in appearance, with his well-tailored clothing and heavy cape draped over his shoulders. His blond hair was pulled neatly into a braid, unlike his father's which hung freely down his shoulders. Gerhardt's eyes were the same intense blue, but they seemed to hold more humanity in the place of his father's tragic villainy.  
"I do not think you could possibly possess your father's wickedness," replied Tiziana.  
Gerhardt laughed and said, "I am but the bastard son, but I am my father, Fraulein." Tiziana's eyes covered the younger vampire, and made a deliberate effort to attract his attention by touching the swell of her breast. Gerhardt took her hand and kissed it.  
The Count snatched Tiziana away and flashed his teeth in warning to Gerhardt. "You had best continue with your milk maids, my son. This saucy wench is mine!," he said, roughly pressing her breast with his hand.  
Gerhardt laughed tauntingly at Tiziana, and tipped his ornate hat towards her. "I wish you a sweet morning, my lady, but I must retire." He marched away in that haughty gait of his father, leaving Tiziana thinking of a way to use him against the Count. *  
"Olgar, this is insanity!," begged the blacksmith's brother as he packed his weapons into a sack.  
"Nay, it is not madness! If Tiziana still lives, I must find her! God only knows what evil he has already worked upon her!," exclaimed Olgar.  
"Ale has warped your senses, brother!," he replied.  
"I have been drunk before, but never have I seen the things I saw in those woods! By all that is holy, I saw this creature that I told you of! That face! If I live a hundred years I'll never forget that sight! And to think of my only daughter within his clutches! I would be a fiend if I did not go in search of her!," continued Olgar.  
"Even if you knew where this vampire dwells, you would need an army to make it out alive! Listen to me, Olgar, for I have never lied to you! Tiziana is a wild and impetuous girl! She has no doubt run away with some lad, and you should learn to live with that explanation for her disappearance, for there can be no other way for you to find peace and live!," explained his brother.  
"Shall I allow this creature to hold dominion over me through my child? Nay! I will take back what is mine or die trying!," declared Olgar. *  
Tiziana sat watching the sun go down with blazing eyes, for in a few moments, he would be back in her presence. His eyes and hands would begin to caress her once more, and make her feel things that she did not want to feel. Frederick kept a constant vigil over her during the day, preventing her from wandering freely through the castle. She had hoped to steal a moment out of his guard to find the place where the Count and his scions were entombed, but she was certain that he had taken every precaution against her after the assault on him earlier. Gerhardt was a handsome target, but Tiziana could tell that he was no fool. She would have to be careful if she was to attract him without arousing his suspicions instead of his passions.  
She stiffened as she felt that cold presence enter the room, and turned to face him. However, it was not the Count who stood before her. Gerhardt smiled mockingly at her and said, "My father is out hunting amidst the forest tonight, so I have taken the duty of making sure you do not cause some mischief while he is away."  
"And what sort of mischief do you think I am about? I have nowhere to run, and the forest is filled with wolves. Perhaps the wolves are preferable to your father's company," replied Tiziana.  
"There are also many in the crypts of this castle who would kill you without much thought, my sweet. Namely Herbert and Helga, my father's less than scrupulous children. You will not be safe unless you are under the Count's protection," said Gerhardt.  
"And what of you, Gerhardt? You called yourself a bastard son, yet you have such loyalty to your father," pried Tiziana.  
"My father went to great lengths that I might not fall under the curse as he did, but those efforts were in vain. For what it is worth, my father is less a monster than he would have you to believe, but there are those who truly have no soul nor any remorse for the destruction they levy. My father and I regret the paths we must take, yet we travel them none the less," lamented Garhardt with a slight smile.  
"I think you are a poet, Gerhardt," said Tiziana, coming closer to him.  
"Mark my word, Tiziana, I am hungry, and you are beautiful. Nothing would please me more than to drink from you and make you mine, but my father would destroy us both," he said, turning from her.  
"Do you fear him so much? Are you not what he is?," she said, taunting him.  
"Yes, he is afraid of him! As you should well be!," replied a feminine voice, and a fair haired girl slipped from the shadows.  
"What do you want, Helga? I thought with your lust for blood you would be on the hunting fields," replied Gerhardt.  
"Why should I go out when there is blood ripe for the kill among us?," she said coyly towards Tiziana, flashing her teeth.  
  
"I would advise you to be wise, and obey Father's commands, Helga," said Gerhardt.  
"You always were much too agreeable with Father, Gerhardt," said a young man, moving out of the shadows behind his sister.  
"I know where my loyalties are, Herbert," he replied, baring his teeth.  
He laughed wickedly and said, "Loyalties? You were always the one that Father laid up his treasures for, but they are of little value now. Loyalties were never in the question of whether or not Helga and I should turn you. You would not live while we were turned about in the fire!"  
Gerhardt leapt towards his brother, and the two madly revealed their teeth. "The bastard should know his superiors!," said Herbert between his teeth. Gerhardt seized into his neck, summoning a cry from Herbert as he struggled to free himself from the stronger vampire. Gerhardt threw his brother aside and pulled Helga by her golden hair as she attempted to attack Tiziana.  
"You will regret this! We will drink the girl dry!," screamed Helga, dragging Herbert to his feet. Tiziana braced herself for another battle between Gerhardt and his rival siblings, but the two defeated vampires flew from the window, howling and vowing revenge.  
"They will not come back tonight. Herbert is a whimpering fop just as he was in life, and Helga is the vain image of her mother before her," said Gerhardt.  
"Her mother?," questioned Tiziana.  
"Yes, the Count's wife Hildagarde. Never did such a vain, wicked woman walk the earth. Just as Jezebel before her, I doubt that the dogs would have eaten her hands and feet!," replied Gerhardt. "No further questions! It is not for your ears!"  
"Gerhardt," said Tiziana, turning him to face her. "Only you can free me! If you will not see me through the forest, will you make me what you are before any of them return? I would be yours! We would be immortal together and the Count could not touch us!"  
"You are a mad, cunning bitch to ask this of me! Loyalty to my father is the only thing that separates me from them!," he exclaimed, turning on her.  
Tiziana threw herself towards him, and caught his lips with her own. She recognized his lips returning her caress, and she pressed herself close to him. "Gerhardt, we are both victims of him! Let us break the chains he has placed around us!"  
It had been a long time since Gerhardt had fed upon anything other than a whimpering village maid, and Tiziana was beautiful and willing. "My father will most likely destroy me for this," he said, caressing her neck. He pressed her body to his and took in her warmth. Tiziana sighed with pleasure, but through his touch, the Count haunted her; his hands were those of his father. Gerhardt pressed his fangs against her throat, but just as he began to seize her, he saw his father standing in the window. Tiziana felt his body stiffen, and knew instinctively that the game was over. Gerhardt backed away from Tiziana as his father silently approached them. His son opened his mouth to speak, but the Count raised up his hand to silence his words. He had never seen such anger in his father's eyes, but it was not the fury that frightened him most. It was the silence; that stony, cold silence that permeated the air as if it were the screams of the damned.  
"Take your leave, Gerhardt. I want none of your words. This deceitful, plotting harlot will have the answers I desire!," thundered the Count, clutching his powerful hands around her neck. "I could kill you so easily! I have killed for so little in the past, one would think I possessed the ruthlessness to squeeze the life from you!"  
"Then do it! What is your hesitation, Excellency?," she demanded defiantly. The Count groaned as some long dormant trace of humanity began to gnaw at him. He threw her roughly aside at her words and pointed to Gerhardt. "I told you to take your leave!," he commanded as he braced his shoulders angrily. "Nothing is sacred to our kind, is it, Gerhardt? Even you that I have trusted for so many years must now betray me! Be gone!"  
"What will become of the girl?," asked Gerhardt.  
"Does it matter what becomes of her? She is mine to do with as I please. You are fortunate that I returned before you made the fatal mistake of turning her! You are of the same scheming nature as Herbert and Helga! Now go!," ordered the Count. This time his son obeyed, humbled by his father's accusations against him.  
Tiziana trembled in the Count's presence now, for she feared his madness. "Have done, Excellency! What are you plans? Kill me if you will, but no more waiting!"  
He forcefully snatched Tiziana to her feet and roughly threw her head back. "I should snap your worthless neck! I am not to be played the fool by a woman, Tiziana! I vowed when it happened before that it would never happen again! A lying, treacherous woman is the cause of my immortal soul's torment! And yet how befitting that the child of my own adultery would revisit her curse upon me! I sometimes wonder if her spirit still dwells here to torment me!"  
"It is no wonder that she hated you! You are a fiend, and I doubt that you were any different in life!," came Tiziana's venom-filled words.  
"Hildagarde was a wicked, cunning creature, yet she was very beautiful with hair of gold and eyes like the sky. I loved her in the beginning, and she loved my title and estate, so it was a perfect match," replied the Count. "There were times I wanted to kill her when she betrayed my bed with everything from other aristocrats to stable boys, but I suppose it was love that kept me from it. I cannot tell what keeps me from killing you who would tempt my son to defy me. I am an inhuman monster, Tiziana, but I still possess all the unsavory qualities of humanity, the worst of those being pride." The Count laughed wickedly at the sight of Tiziana trembling before him. "But, alas, Meine Liebe, the real tragedy of my existence is that I still do feel for the vile, slithering mortal. If only I could summon enough devils to kill you, but I cannot! Damn you!," he raged on as he grabbed her angrily.  
Tiziana screamed as he took her in a savagely passionate embrace. "You bring back long dead memories of Hildagarde. Tis no wonder I want to love and kill you at the same time! You are mine, Tizi! All mine, just as Hildagarde was all mine whether she wanted to be or not! Ah, you are an evil wench, just as she was, but I want you all the same!," said the Count madly as he pressed his mouth against her neck. He felt her blood running wildly in her veins as she struggled against him. Her struggles began to lessen as he touched her warm hand. The Count felt her warmth passing to him, and he tilted her head back against his shoulder. Tiziana trembled with fear as he touched her throbbing neck. His fangs took form against her flesh, and he slowly, yet eagerly, pierced her skin.  
Tiziana screamed with the painful pleasure that passed over her and cried, "Have you no pity? Leave me alone!" He dropped her to the floor, and came over her gracefully.  
"Nay, no pity, woman! I want you! Oh, fie on your feigned morality! Fie on you trembling body which begs to be touched against your will!," he said roughly, consuming her lips. "Say there is no desire in your heart, Tizi!"  
She groaned with the pain of her mind fighting against her heart. What power his hands possessed! How she had always longed to feel something so powerful and passionate against her mouth!  
"You are falling, Tizi. Come with me and fall into this great abyss of night," he whispered to her as his fangs fully revealed themselves. The Count resisted the desire to bite her, but instead lifted her into his arms and carried her away to his chamber. Tiziana did not fight him as he lay her down in his bed, and slowly ran his powerful hands over her body. She ran her fingers through his hair, and returned his intense caress as he pressed her further in the depths of the bed. *  
Tiziana awoke the next morning to the sunlight streaming through the window of the chamber. The Count was naturally gone, but she did not understand why she had been spared. She thought that she surely would have died at his passionate love making this time. Tiziana gasped at the realization that she was free from her bonds. She looked to the foot of the bed and saw a lovely gown awaiting her. It was much different than the one he had given her before. The crimson and gold brocade was the finest she had ever seen, and the delicate heeled shoes were fit for a queen. Tiziana pulled the gown close to her. She still did not trust the Count's gifts. This gown had a meaning behind it, and she felt a strange dread when she looked upon it.  
"I feel like a common whore for accepting his gifts," she said to herself, but he had taken her other gown away, so she had no choice but to accept. The cloth felt so beautiful and rich against her skin as she dressed. Her flaming red hair fell against her pale shoulders and the bodice draped perfectly over her bosom. The Count always took notice of her womanly features, and this dress felt as if it were his very hands upon her. Tiziana had admitted to herself that she had desired the Count when he took her, and he had known it as well. She sat down at the vanity and began to comb her long hair as she thought of the things that had occurred at the castle the previous night.  
Tiziana suddenly noticed that Frederick was not guarding her. "Could he have set me free?," she mused. "No, he is much too loyal." She walked to the door, and opened it freely. A tremble of apprehension ran up her spine. Something was definitely afoot, and not knowing terrified her even more than the existence of vampires.  
She walked out into the silent hall, and called in a quite, quivering voice, "Frederick?" There was no answer. The servant was always on guard at the castle, and Tiziana feared that some mischief had befallen him. Frederick had never been cruel to her, but his loyalties kept them from being friends. She slowly made her way down the spiral staircase and into the Great Hall, but it was all so still! Tiziana spotted a small crumpled figure at the base of the stairs. "Frederick!," she cried, running to him.  
  
She turned him to face her; he was breathing, but his temple bore a gash with a long stream of dried blood flowing from it. "Frederick, what has happened?," she asked desperately, rousing him.  
"Fraulein, I did not expect for you to help me," he replied quietly.  
"Frederick, we could all be in some sort of danger! Please tell me who did this!," she pleaded with him, brushing away the blood with her handkerchief.  
"A man is somewhere in the castle! He was a strong man, and I am old, and could not stop him from entering! He looked like a woodsman, and was vowing revenge against His Excellency!," said Frederick.  
"Papa!," she exclaimed. "My father has come here looking for me! Frederick, we must find him before he gets himself killed!"  
"I tried to talk sense to him, but he was as a madman!," replied Frederick. "He is looking for the crypts, but he will never find them in the labyrinths. Not even I know all the secret passages, and if a man stumbles into one of pits, we will never find him alive! It is like Hell down there, Fraulein! Dreadful wicked sounds coming from all around you! The castle was built as a fortress in the thirteenth century when the barbarians burned and ravaged constantly. These passages were meant to bring salvation and safety to the rulers who once lived here, now they bring death and damnation."  
"Will you take me there? He is my father, and I must warn him!," pleaded Tiziana.  
"Yes, but we must hurry! Night seems to fall more quickly here!," said Frederick, lighting his lantern and motioning for Tiziana to follow him. They came to a forbidding part of the castle, and he stopped at a door that only the gates of Hell could compare with. "Fraulein, it is his foolery! Do not make us die for it as well!," said Frederick, trying to discourage her.  
"Stay if you like, but it will take me longer to find him without your help," said Tiziana, taking the lantern.  
Frederick reluctantly opened doors to the labyrinth, and held his light up into the darkness. "Oh, my girl, please! Let us go back!"  
Tiziana walked past him and into the light of the lantern. She gasped in horror as she saw the open burial niches filled with bones of the long dead. Her composure quickly returned, and Frederick slowly followed her down. "Amazing," she gasped, looking at the vast, seemingly never- ending passages that led into the darkness. "Papa!," she called out into the vacuum.  
"He'll not answer, Fraulein! Only God could figure out this maze and lead us to him!," replied Frederick.  
"Then God shall guide my feet to him even through Hell," replied Tiziana. She stooped down on the floor and observed fresh footprints in the dust. "We will follow his tracks!," said Tiziana with relief, pointing to the trail that slowly disappeared down one of the dark tunnels.  
Tiziana was amazed at the darkness of the place even with Frederick's lantern. Ancient spider webs entangled her as she passed through the halls. Skeletal hands seemed to reach for her and the servant out of the darkness. She dare not look their way for fear of loosing her courage. The dust and niter was breathtaking, and the passage was becoming increasingly short and narrow. They were on their hands and knees by the time they reached the end. Tiziana felt as if she was choking on the stale air when suddenly she smelt water. "Water, Frederick!," she cried.  
"Yes, the mountain streams form lakes under the crypts when the water is high," said Frederick.  
Tiziana forced her skirts through the small opening , and stepped out into another water-filled passage. "Papa!," she cried as she looked around her, trying not to loose hope.  
"Tizi!," came a cry from somewhere down in the darkness.  
"Papa! Where are you? It's Tizi and I've come to help you!," she exclaimed to the voice.  
She noticed the water rippling near by, and took off the heavy skirt and the fine shoes to reach her father more quickly. "Papa!," she cried, finally grasping his wet, shivering figure in the darkness. "Frederick! Bring your lantern!"  
The servant obeyed, and wadded through the water with his sole light. "Tizi, my leg! It's trapped under a stone!," cried Olgar.  
She put all her strength against the stone, but it refused to move. "Let me help, Fraulein," said Frederick, handing the lantern to Tiziana. Using all his strength, he managed to budge the stone enough for Olgar to free his leg.  
"Oh, God, Tizi, how did you find me?," he said as if angels had just pulled him from the water.  
"Frederick, Papa. You should not have treated him so poorly, for now he has in his compassion helped me find you," said Tiziana.  
"We must leave, and quickly, Fraulein! You must go and never come back to this place!," said Frederick nervously. "Time has flown, and they will be awakening soon!"  
"I have not been entirely foolish, however. I possess a stake, a cross, and an iron fist," said Olgar.  
"Papa, you must come with us! You do not no the danger here! Come back through the labyrinth with us! Frederick knows the way!," begged Tiziana.  
"Have you seen him, Tizi? Have you seen the Vampire King?," asked Olgar.  
"Indeed, and he is very powerful! No one can destroy him, and it is foolish to try!," said Tiziana.  
"Listen to the Fraulein, Mein Herr!," said Frederick, trembling. "The time is growing short! We are dead men if he finds us here!"  
"Come, Papa!," cried Tiziana, leading her father out of the water. She pulled her skirts back on, and slipped the shoes back on her feet. The tiny passage seemed even smaller as her stocky father went before her. The air was so stale that it was almost impossible to breathe, and the smell of the water was choking.  
"Not much further! The passage is getting wider!," said Frederick, leading the way with the lantern. Tiziana shuddered at the grinning skulls all around her, and their bony fingers caught in her hair. They were running with fear to beat the sunset, for Frederick knew the Count's wrath as well as anyone could. The labyrinth door looked like salvation, and they all gasped as they took in the fresh air. "There is no time! You must go as fast as you can! The sun is setting even as we speak!," ordered Frederick, locking the crypt.  
Olgar ran with his daughter in tow as they fled into the Great Hall. Tiziana froze as she heard the distant howl of a wolf, signally sunset.  
"Tiziana, what is the meaning of this early departure?," said the booming voice of the Count from atop the staircase. "I commend your father for such a daring rescue attempt. If only he had the same amount of brains as bravery!"  
"Excellency, do not harm him! He came to rescue me as you knew he would!," cried Tiziana.  
"Yes, I knew he would eventually come. Why should I have mercy on him?," asked the Count, descending the stairs.  
"Because I have this, you spawn of Satan!," exclaimed Olgar, producing the cross and stake. The Count brought his hands to his eyes, and let out a cry of anger. "Tizi, hold the cross to him so he can be destroyed!"  
"Yes, yes, Tiziana! Hold up the cross against me! Destroy me! Send me back to Hell!," he cried madly.  
Tiziana looked at the Count's raging blue eyes which seemed like a storming sea. Could she kill him? No, she knew she never could, no matter how much he deserved to die. "No, Papa, let him live. I think life for the Count is worse than death."  
"Are you mad, Tizi? This is Satan incarnate you see before you! He has no heart, no soul!," protested Olgar.  
"Will you let him go free?," beseeched Tiziana to the Count.  
"Yes, but you must stay, Tiziana, and he must be made forget all that he has seen," replied the Count.  
"No, Devil!," cried Olgar as he lunged at the Count with the stake. Tiziana held back her father's hand long enough for the Count to wrench the sharp instrument from his hand.  
"You will die for this!," roared the Count, throwing Olgar to the ground and turning the stake against him.  
"No!," exclaimed Tiziana throwing herself over her father.  
"Stand aside or be destroyed yourself!," he ordered.  
"No, Excellency! If you kill him, you must kill me! I have this very night spared you when I have once prayed for the moment when I would have the power to destroy you! Spare my father, or kill us both!," said Tiziana, her eyes glowing with the intensity of her words. The Count prepared to impale them upon the stake, but he could not lower his arm.  
"Damn you, wretched woman! I have allowed you to put a crack in my heart of stone!," he raged, throwing the stake aside. "He shall remember nothing," the Count continued, raising his hand to Olgar's eyes. He fell into a deep sleep upon the floor.  
"As for you, Tiziana, I have it within my power to make you my obedient slave; however, I prefer you as the wench you are," said the Count, kissing her on the lips slowly. He looked at her standing there in the gown he had given her. It was covered in dust, and her hair was disheveled, but she was so beautiful. "Leave me, Tiziana. Take your father back to the village and marry a nice country lad to take you to prayers and keep you with child. Make sure the he knows little of the world and all its evil. 'Tis better that way. Consider this the Devil's mercy." He turned from her and called for Frederick. "Frederick, take a carriage and see them to the village. Never return to me, Tiziana. 'Twill be the damnation of your soul if you do."  
Tiziana looked back at him as she was carried from the castle. She wondered how he possessed the will not to turn her. His face seemed stricken with such a deep tormentors pain that it was impossible to describe. She wanted to say something to him, but there was nothing she could say. Words would have been for naught at that moment. * Several Months Later, Wintertime  
  
Tiziana finished her letter to her father, and lay it by his bed. After long months of keeping the cottage, and watching her days fly into nowhere, she had felt her longing for the Count intensify. She feared growing old without feeling that indescribable passion the Count brought over her. Tiziana had been awakened in her nights with him, but had yet to confess that she loved him. But she did! Oh, the terrible, yet wonderful, truth! She would tell her father that she had run away to be married, and he would never know since the Count had erased his memory.  
She had cleaned the beautiful gown the Count had given her, and she was wearing it for him tonight. Tiziana covered her shoulders with her cloak, and walked through the freezing air to the forest. "Excellency! It is Tiziana! I know that you can hear me! I have felt you very near these last few months! Come to me!," she called into the thick mass of trees.  
The wind blew mournfully in response to her cry, and she felt a numbing chill come over her. "I never could blind you to what I am, could I, Tiziana?," he replied, appearing behind her. "So why have you called me here to you?"  
"I have come back to you. You are more wicked than I imaged to send me away knowing that it would drive me mad to be away from you," she said.  
He threw back the hood of her cloak, and touched her cheek with his long fingers. "Nay, Tizi. You drive yourself mad."  
She reached up and kissed his cold lips until they were filled with her warmth. "I love the purveyor of my madness. You drive me mad with passion, and then tell me to leave you. Cruelty is boundless, is it not, Excellency?"  
"I fought down to the depths of my being to give you mercy, and yet you come to me asking for my ruthlessness," he said in return.  
"I do not want your mercy. I want whatever love there is left inside you, if only for this moment," she whispered.  
The Count pulled her to him, and she let her body melt into his. His fangs touched her neck as his hands came under her cloak. She cried with pleasure as he bestowed that dark caress upon her. They slowly sank into the snow as her blood slowly became his. Tiziana's lifeblood poured on to the white snow, and her hair lay in a profusion of red all around her. "My rose, I have crushed you upon the snow," he said, touching the wound on her throat.  
"Nay, my dark angel. I have never loved...or hated anything as much as you. Love and hate are of the same blood, one will never be too far removed from each other," gasped Tiziana.  
The Count lifted her from the snow, and said to her, "Hate is of my nature, Tizi."  
"To truly hate, you had to have once truly loved," said Tiziana softly, her life passing away.  
"Yes, I did. Perhaps that is why I wanted to spare you," said the Count mournfully.  
"I never had any desire to be spared, my love," she said finally, kissing his blood-stained lips.  
He felt her die against his mouth, and he held her closer to him, running his hands over her fiery hair. "But how I wanted to spare you."  
Tiziana slowly opened her eyes and grasped his shoulders. "Talk no more of sparing me. Talk of love to me, talk of passion and eternity."  
"All of these things, and more, Tizi," the Count replied as he placed the ruby pendant he had taken from her around her neck. "You are worthy, my dear."  
"Show me your world. I want to know the depths of passion we can sink into," she murmured.  
The Count consumed her lips with a lusty caress and said, "Let us fall together at last, Tizi. Into that vast eternity together."  
"Of my hate, my greatest love has emerged," she said passionately.  
"And of my lust and cruelty is born mercy...and love," he said against her ear.  
"Love," she murmured. "I feel that your heart has joined with mine tonight," Tiziana continued, putting her hand to his chest.  
"I have an eternity to explore your heart, mind, and body," whispered the Count. "Mine forever you will be."  
"I am willingly chained to my captor. My heart is forever bound to yours," said Tiziana.  
"The fetters never shall break love, never," he whispered.  
"Fetters bind not my heart, Excellency. I want my captor's chains around me forever," she said with a passionate caress.  
"Then forever they shall be," he said with desire as they flew away into the black forest, and into that vast sea that is eternity. 


End file.
